The Ice Queen of Orange County
by r-mak
Summary: If you thought the cold hearted likes of Kirsten, Julie, and Veronica were a sour lot, you ain't seen nothing yet! -- eventually RT with some SS & SK --
1. Chapter 1

THE ICE QUEEN OF ORANGE COUNTY

-1-

She stood there in her mother's cold fortress of solitude nestled in the cheery smiles and laughter filled "sunshine state."

"Someone, gag me please!" she muttered to herself, even though some of the staff and construction workers milling about the house heard her. "Close the curtains" she ordered one of the maids.

"We need the light to conduct our job properly" one of the construction workers spoke up.

The woman turned around to face the worker. "I believe the light bulb was invented to aid with such dilemmas" the woman coldly replied as she eyed the worker up and down. He was pretty hot with his blonde hair and blue eyes, not to mention stupid enough to be taken advantage of.

"We had to turn down the electricity because of the hazards involved with construction."

"I believe you are being paid enough to work around something like that."

"Look, lady..."

The woman looked at her watch before interrupting him. "Look, _boy_..." she said as a sheepish smile crossed her face "I have guests arriving here in two hours for a memorial service for my mother which I do not want to hold, but needless to say must if I am going to keep up the false pretense that I actually gave a damn about her and get my hands on the money that I need to pay you and the rest of you degenerate lot because she stupidly decided to sign a contract with you neanderthals; so before you begin working on this room, how about you finish with one of the rooms on the other side of the house and pick up where you have failed to begin in this room after this mockery of a memorial service for a woman who has hopefully, although I shouldn't get my hopes up since her entire body was made out of plastic, is rotting in her grave as we speak."

The workers looked at her in shock and she arched an eyebrow over her dark sunglasses in response and she unnecessarily smoothed down the black dress that clung to her body and took off her large hat. "What? Cat got your tongue, _boy_?"

"Our boss told us to take care of this room" he stated simply, suddenly feeling like he was in over his head.

"Do you really think I give a damn about what your inane manager or supervisor told you? Your pay check for all of this is coming from me; therefore, do as I tell you. You should consider me to be your boss!" she spat. "As for you..." she said to the head maid "I want you to make sure that this room is set up exactly as I told you. I'm going upstairs and I'll be down in one and a half hours. I do not want to be interrupted. Oh, and if this room isn't set up like I told you, I can and will replace you in five seconds flat."

With that, the woman started ascending the stairs and locked herself in the room she occupied when she arrived the night before.

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"Hey, Aaron! What's up?" the man asked his son as he and other workers returned from where he told them to begin working for the day. He felt unsettled by the angry, shocked, and somewhat puzzled look on his son's face.

"Nothing, dad."

"That doesn't sound too convincing. Why aren't you guys doing what I told you to do?" he asked all of his workers who looked at Aaron to respond. "Any of you guys can answer me you know."

"This lady tore into Aaron..." one of the workers started and Aaron watched as his father's eyes widened.

"She told us that she needs that room today and that we should work on one of the other rooms instead." Aaron said before the worker could finish what he was about to say.

"Bruce, what did she do?" the man asked the worker who first spoke up.

"Called him boy after he called her lady and then called us all degenerates and said that she needed the room for the day and that she was paying us so we should listen to her and go work on something else."

The man clenched his fists. He had made an arrangement with the owner of this house before all he started working on renovations. He told her that she wasn't going to order around, let alone put down, any of his workers or his son. If she did, he told her it would be over and she could figure out what to do from there. He felt the blood rushing through his veins as he turned around and headed towards the living room.

"Where is she?" he asked one of the maids who had grown accustomed to seeing his face and knew who he was.

"Upstairs" she said nonchalantly. "Wait, sir, she said she didn't want to be interrupted." The maid had a panicked expression on her face and the man could tell that she was scared out of her mind.

"You can always count on her to have a bad day and scare the shit out of everyone around. Don't worry... I won't let her know that you told me." he said to the maid as he climbed up the stairs.

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"I really love these conference calls." The woman stated enthusiastically. She managed to shower but felt like she couldn't remove the stench of death from her presence. That's why she called her children, she needed to feel alive.

She sat in front of her armoire vanity set clad in a red silk robe as she brushed her hair and did her makeup.

"Mom, are you sure you don't want us to be there? We can just hop on the jet and be there and come back in no time."

"It isn't worth it, honey."

"Are you sure mom? We're kind of worried about you. We know how much you hate Newport."

"When did children start looking out for their parents? Stop worrying about me. I should be worrying about you. How are the two of you doing all alone in New York?"

"We're fine mom."

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The man fumed as he spotted the shut door at the end of the hallway and made out the muffled sounds of the woman's voice. He squared his shoulders, tightened his jaw and clenched his fists as though he were preparing himself for the fight of his life.

As soon as he reached the door, he knocked on it. There was no reply.

He knocked again, only this time harder. There was still no response.

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To say that she was simply inconvenienced, upset, irritated, or angry would be grave understatements. She was fuming. Who ever this insufferable man was, he was making her blood boil. The time she spent talking with her children, one of the only things that brought any semblance of joy to her life, was cut short because of his pounding on her bedroom door and yelling. She couldn't help but wonder if her mother had become a ludicrous mad woman in the final years of her life, seeing as how she had enabled the help to have the notion that they were free to gallivant through the house, do as they please, and shout at her.

She had told that stupid maid that she didn't want to be disturbed.

She slammed her brush down on the armoire before making her way to the door with a huff.

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He could feel the blood rushing through his veins and his skin turning redder with each second that passed. He wondered if he should just stop the work and leave the bitch to figure out what to do all by herself. Even if he did do that though, there was no way in hell he was going to let the old hag get away with putting down his son. He was going to give her a piece of his mind.

At this point he was pounding on her door and shouting her name.

"I've got to talk to you. Who do you think you are? I warned you about this! I told you that if you were rude to any of my workers, you'd have to find someone else to do these renovations! Open this door right now or I swear I'll break it down, Townsend!" he yelled at the top of his lungs.

He nearly fell over when the woman threw the door open.

"It's not Townsend, you degenerate bumbling hound!" he heard the voice of another woman, one he wasn't expecting, speak. "It's..." she began before he looked up at her and felt like he had been hit by a ton of bricks.

He suddenly forgot why he had been pounding on her door not even a minute ago as his blue eyes locked with her fiery hazel orbs. He finally understood what the term 'blast from the past' meant as he was suddenly transported back to another lifetime. Even though it had only been fifteen years since he had last seen her, it felt like it had been centuries.

She looked the same, only her hair was darker and longer than he remembered. He suddenly remembered how happy he was back then, how in love they were, what it felt like to kiss her, to have her look up at him with her loving gaze, and as his eyes roamed her body in her red silken robe that fell mid-thigh, he couldn't help but remember what it was like to have their bodies fused together in the most heated and passionate experiences of his life.

He was pulled out of his reverie when he noticed her pulling her robe closer to her body as she stared at him with narrowed and speculative eyes. He didn't know what to say, which was why he ended up uttering the only word that was running through his mind as his eyes met those of the love of his life once again.

"Taylor..."

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I've been lurking on this site for a while now and writing a bunch of stories at the same time. I figured it was about time that I actually posted something.

Feel free to let me know what you think.


	2. Chapter 2

-2-

She thought she was hallucinating at first. Perhaps all the vodka martinis and glasses of chardonnay were finally catching up to her. What the hell was Ryan Atwood doing, standing in front of her, in her deceased mother's house while she had on only a skimpy little robe that revealed far too much? Although, the way he kept gawking at her made her feel as though she had absolutely nothing to be insecure about.

She felt a foreign feeling well up inside of her at the sound of his voice as she looked into his eyes. Her stomach clenched and she felt a tingling sensation throughout her body. It was as if blood had finally started to flow through her veins.

He looked the same, only his hair was slightly darker and he was more ruggedly handsome than ever before. This shouldn't be happening to her. His presence shouldn't have the slightest affect on her. The very thought of these feelings welling up inside her made her sick enough to want to hurl on the spot.

"What are you doing here?" she heard him ask.

"Seeing as how this isn't your house, shouldn't I be asking you that question?" she incredulously retorted.

"I uh… your mother… she uh… she hired me."

"Yes. Well, that still doesn't explain what you're doing here" she said as she narrowed her eyes, crossed her arms, and shook her head slightly.

"I need to talk to your mother about a stunt she just pulled with my workers. Where is she?"

Taylor let out a frustrated sigh as she leaned against the frame of the door. This was going to take a while. All she had was her damned luck to thank for it. "It's going to be very hard for you to complete that task seeing as how she's six feet under."

He looked at her, dumb stricken. She would have laughed but she felt like slapping him and calling a guard to have him thrown out of the house.

"I'm sorry. When did she uh...?"

"Croak? A couple of days ago" she said as she began to examine her nails.

"I'm sorry Taylor. I uh… if…"

"Don't…" Taylor stated before inhaling and exhaling sharply as she wondered why this was so hard. "It's fine" she curtly stated.

There was a silence between them that lasted no more than a few seconds but seemed to last centuries. They stared at each other before tearing their eyes away and trying to focus on any and everything else that was within sight.

"If that's all, I really should finish getting ready." Taylor said as she broke the silence and began to turn around.

"When did you…?"

_Get in? _"Last night" she quickly replied, not giving him a chance to finish his question.

"Are you….?"

_Staying? _"I don't plan to."

"When are you…?"

_Leaving? _"As soon as these dumb construction workers finish with the stupid renovations my mother ordered" she stated as she looked straight into his eyes, knowing that the irritation in her voice was evident. "As nice as this little chat is…" she began with a blatant lie, "I have things I need to take care of."

Taylor quickly took a step backwards into her room, shut the door, and locked it. She deeply inhaled and exhaled as she pressed her left palm against the door and her right one against her rapidly pounding heart.

"Stop it Taylor! Just stop it. You need to calm down and get a hold of yourself" she told herself with conviction.

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Ryan stared at the door dumbfounded for a moment before unconsciously placing the palm of his right hand against it. He wafted through life thinking he'd never see her again and he was okay with that. But seeing her again and knowing that she was here and in front of him killed him because she was out of reach.

He never loved anyone like he loved her. She haunted him. Despite all of his attempts, he could never be with any other woman because she was always in the back of his mind and lurking in a darkened, shallow, and unvisited corner of his heart.

All of the memories and feelings he'd tried to push out of his mind over the last fifteen years came flooding back after one small encounter with her. He had never gotten over her. He still loved her. Despite everything that happened between them, despite all of the time that had passed… he still loved her.

Looking down at the gold band on the ring finger of his left hand, he realized why he had never taken it off. He pulled his right hand away from the door and pulled the band off his finger. Holding it between his thumb and index finger, he brought the band up to his eyes and read the inscription.

_Ryan & Taylor forever_

It was more like _never_. He placed the ring back in its' rightful place and sighed before making his way through the hallway and down the stairs. It was his fault that he had to love her from afar and that the action spelled out sadness, anger, and despair for him.

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Aaron hammered away at the supporting beams of what was supposed to be a "recreation room." That old woman had given him what his grandfather would call the "heebie jeebies." He didn't even want to think about what the term "recreation" in a sly tone with a devilish grin on her face meant. It was all just TMI, or TMT (too much thinking) as his uncle Seth once put it, for him to deal with.

The hammer in his hand stopped midway as he noticed his father entering the room. He looked… well he wasn't sure how he looked. He had never seen his father look this way before. Well, he had seen his father look this way many years ago. The last time his father looked like this was… on second thought, he didn't want to revisit the last time his father looked like this.

"Dad!" Aaron called out, grabbing his father's attention and walking towards him. "Everything okay?" he asked as soon as he was close enough to his father that no one else would be able to hear their conversation.

"Huh?"

"You alright? You look kind of… strange."

"Oh no, I'm fine" his father stated as he took a hard gulp.

Aaron didn't know what to say. He knew he shouldn't push the issue. That lady probably tore into his father the same way she tore into him earlier.

"Did you know that Veronica Townsend was dead?" his father asked him.

"Yeah. That lady, her daughter, she mentioned that she had to hold a memorial service and that's why she didn't want us working on that side of the house."

His father simply nodded. "You didn't recognize her?" he asked with a puzzled look on his face.

"No. I try to steer away from crazy bitches. Remember?" he asked referring to his latest ex-girlfriend.

His father glared at him. What? Seriously? What the hell was that? Since when did his father glare at him? His uncle Seth, sure, all the time… but him? It wasn't even a "so not funny" glare… it was one of those death glares he was apparently notorious for.

"She was dressed in black from head to toe and was wearing really big sun glasses. Does that help?" he found himself saying.

"Did she mention what time the memorial service was?" he asked as he ran a hand over his face and through his hair.

"Well, half an hour ago she said it was in two hours. So, it's probably at 3" he responded as he wondered why his father kept asking questions about that woman.

"Alright, guys! Guys!" his father shouted at all the workers until he had their attention. "You can have the afternoon off. We'll pick up on this tomorrow morning." He waited a few moments for everyone to begin clearing up and putting things away. "As for you," his father directed his attention toward himself "go home, clean up, put on a suit and meet me back here at 3 for the memorial service."

"Alright dad, I'll see you at 3" Aaron said as he began to pack his things up. He knew better than to question his father and his level of sanity when he had that intense, stubborn look in his eyes.

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For the first time in years, Ryan Atwood's heart and his brain were out of sink and going a mile a minute. His brain told him told him not to do this. He should stay away. She was married to another man. She was the mother of another man's children. She hated him. What did he expect from doing this? How could he possibly persuade her to leave her life and come back to him after all this time? It wasn't just about them anymore. There were too many people involved. She was living her life and he was living his. It was too late.

His heart told him that he had to do this. He had to see her. He had to talk to her. He had to explain everything to her. He had to have her back in his life. He had to touch her. He had to hold her. Screw her husband. Her kids were old enough. The love they shared was too strong to be held back by any of that shit.

He should tell his family. Despite everything that happened in the past, she was part of their family too. He wanted the dark cloud that hung over everyone's head when they thought about her to disappear. They should know. He pulled out his cellphone as he resolved that they should be there for her too.

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**Author's Note**

Thank you for reviewing the first chapter of my first fanfic utasa, RebleQueen, and Azrael38. After reading your reviews I worried that I wouldn't be able to live up to your expectations – especially because I wasn't sure about exactly where I wanted the plot to end up. Hopefully I'll be able to update more frequently now that I've figured most of it out.

Hope you enjoyed… and sorry for making everyone wait so long.

At first, I didn't think reviews would matter that much… but they do… so, please review!

- Roz


	3. Chapter 3

-3-

Seth hung up the phone and shook his head. There was no doubt about it. His brother had fallen back in love with Taylor.

"Summer!" he yelled. "Summer!" he shouted again. "Ah, I see you're busy satisfying your inner green goblin" he said when he saw her with a pile of various environment oriented pamphlets in front of her.

"I keep telling you not to call it that, Cohen! You make it sound like it's something awful."

"Yeah, well I've been calling it that for the past twenty-two years and I doubt I'm going to stop now. Plus, a part of me thinks that deep down, you really like it."

"Cohen…" she began as she looked up from the pamphlets "stop referring to yourself in the third person and just tell me what you want."

"Just got off the phone with Ryan, and after a very interesting four minutes and thirty-six seconds of conversation, I found out something very interesting."

"Yeah? What?"

"Ding Dong!" he exclaimed as he punched his fist into the air. "The witch is dead!"

Summer's brow furrowed and she asked the first thing that popped out of her mouth: "Which witch?"

"The wicked witch" Seth sang as his wife continued to look at him in confusion. "Actually, it's Veronica Townsend. She's dead."

"Huh" his wife vocalized as she put down the pamphlet she had been reading and leaned back into her chair. He noticed the distant look in her eyes and the serene look that took over her face and by odd chance knew exactly what she was thinking.

"It's been fifteen years Summer."

"That's the point Seth!" she said as she shook her head. "I know I betrayed her, but I apologized and she just couldn't even bother hearing me out. Fifteen years… and I have no clue where she was or what became of her. She always knew where I was and never reached out."

"It's not your fault."

"That's not what she thinks. If I had just…"

"Summer, stop!" he said as he took her small hand in his larger and oddly shaped one. "It's not your fault. Maybe this is your chance, or destiny, or one of those sign type things that delusional people talk about. Maybe this is your opportunity to set things straight with her so that you don't have this looming over your head for the rest of your life. She has to have changed in the past fifteen years."

She slowly nodded her head. "If I can deal with evil, stubborn, greasy corporate giants … I can deal with Taylor. It'll be a piece of cake" she said in order to boost her confidence and reassure herself.

"Yes you can!" Seth said firmly. "Oh, and by the way… Ryan's in love with her again."

"Again? I think I missed the memo about Ryan not being in love with her. I could have sworn that he never fell out of love with her."

"Yeah, true. He hasn't even taken off his wedding ring" Seth pondered as he shook his head. Ryan deserved to be happy, instead of living in the past and blaming himself for something that wasn't his fault.

His wife nodded sadly. "When's the funeral?" she asked.

"In the morning… the memorial service is at 3."

"Yes, and that's all very useful information Cohen," his wife sarcastically began "but on what day?"

"To-day" he replied as he stressed each syllable of the word.

"You're kidding!" Summer exclaimed and he shook his head in response. "So, the funeral's over and I've got less than an hour to get ready for the memorial service?" she asked in shock.

"Yeah, and to be honest, I wouldn't waste anymore time on questions you already know the answer to."

"Great! I'm going to look like crap!"

"Nonsense, you already look great… just throw on a black dress" he stated because it was true. His wife always looked fantastic.

"You've been living under the same roof as me for twenty years and you still don't know how I operate. How touching. I'm shocked our marriage hasn't failed yet" Summer retorted as he followed her up the stairs and into their bedroom.

"Hey! I resent that. If anything, our marriage has succeeded thus far because neither of us knows how the other operates" Seth teased as he began to search his closet for a suit. When there was no response he took the opportunity to continue rambling. "You want to talk about problems Summer? I'm the one with the real problem. I've got my massive jew-fro to tame in less than an hour."

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He was getting too old for this. He wouldn't have accepted Veronica Townsend's offer had it not been for the woman who was once his daughter-in-law. He decided that her safety and well being was more important than any resentment he held towards what had happened between her and his son in the past.

No more than two weeks ago, Veronica had visited him and insisted that he help her with his will. She pleaded with him to make sure that everything went to her daughter and that her money grubbing son-in-law, whoever he was, wouldn't be able to get a hand on a penny of her estate. She told him to make sure that there were no loopholes and that included Taylor being referred to by her maiden name as opposed to her married one. It was actually quite shocking because he couldn't remember another time where she held the slightest shred of concern for anyone but herself. She had clearly been very concerned.

He was shaken from his thoughts as his phone began to ring.

"Hello?"

"Hey dad…"

"Hey, Ryan! What's up son?" he asked causing his wife who had been getting ready to stop in the middle of putting on her earrings.

"Veronica Townsend's dead… I know its kind of late to be telling you this, but her memorial service is at 3."

"I know… I'm in the middle of getting all the paperwork ready."

"Paperwork?"

"She put me in charge of her will" Sandy confirmed. Silence ensued until he decided to ask the question that plagued his mind ever since he found out about Veronica Townsend's death. "Are you sure it's a good idea for you to go? She'll undoubtedly be there."

"I know… I've seen her already." He didn't like the sound of his son's voice, let alone the thought of him having seen his ex-wife. "I need to go… to see her again." This was definitely the start of something terrible. Silence ensued once again. "I'm 40 years old. When are you going to stop looking out for me?"

"You're 41" Sandy sighed into the phone "and never, son. Never."

"I'll see you."

"Yeah. Take care, kid" Sandy managed to get in before he heard the line went dead.

"He knows?" Kirsten asked and Sandy merely nodded in return. "And he's going?" she frowned as he nodded again. "He's been carrying this around with him for so long. Maybe, after seeing her again, he'll be able to just move on."

Sandy shook his head. "He's seen her already and he hasn't moved on. He needs to see her again."

"Maybe she's going through the same thing. She was madly in love with him. Everyone knew it"

"She got remarried, he didn't. She had kids, he didn't" Sandy said as he shook his head. "Taylor was always transparent when it came to her actions. I doubt she's going through the same thing. I doubt she's given him or our family a second thought."

"You never know, Sandy" Kirsten said thoughtfully. "You never know."

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Taylor's altercation with Ryan had a greater affect on her than she would have liked. The wedding band he wore was a clear statement that he had moved on. Why did she even care? She knew he would move on. That's why she moved on – even though her marriage was about keeping up appearances, manipulation, safety, and greed. They both moved on. Plus, why would she want that son of a bitch back after what he did to her anyways? Not only did he tear her heart out, but he put it on display for everyone to see. Fuck him.

Taylor studied her reflection in the mirror. Her makeup, all of which was waterproof for the crocodile tears she would shed, was impeccable. She had done her hair in soft curls, because they always seemed to provide people with the false notion that she was tender and innocent. She chose not to overdo the jewels and opted for simple diamond stud earrings and a matching tennis bracelet in addition to the large diamond wedding ring she never removed. Her strapless swirl brocade dress had a curved shaped bodice with faceted buttons down the front to the waist, a straight pencil shape that flaunted her curves, and a soft tulip hem that added a little sway to her every move. Her dress along with her open toed slingback stiletto heels provided just the right amount of class, elegance, and sex appeal.

It had been fifteen years. Despite the fact that she was supposed to be mourning, she needed to look good for her comeback. After all, that's what being Newport born and raised entailed. Ever since she was young, her mother tried to teach her that one had to be shallow, ruthless, cunning, and conceited if they were going to survive in this God forsaken place. A part of her actually regretted having tried to block out Veronica's teachings for most of her life.

It was all for the best though. In the end, everything she had been through made her better than anything that Veronica could have molded her into. Her mother would have been proud of who she was today… before becoming intimidated by her natural beauty and trying to psych her out by telling her that she had to loose weight and should undergo the knife. She began to laugh lightly and then slightly harder as a shocking realization dawned upon her. A very miniscule part of her was actually going to miss her pathetic excuse of a mother.

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**Author's Note**

Thank you to everyone who reviewed the previous chapter.

Some of you brought up interesting questions. I love how excited you're all getting about this. This chapter built things up some more, but I guarantee you that within the next couple of chapters, some of your questions will be answered. By the end of the story, all of your questions should be answered.

Hope you enjoyed this chapter…

I love reading your reviews… so, please keep them coming!

- Roz


	4. Chapter 4

-4-

Everything had been set up perfectly. The flowers were in all the right places. A collage of pictures of Veronica and the various clients she represented over the years, her and her Newpsie "friends," as well as one of her mother and herself and both of them with her own children had been set up; although, as expected, it wasn't garnering much attention.

The maid had really outdone herself. It was too bad that she had to be fired – after the memorial service, of course. Taylor needed to set an example for the staff. The insufferable maid had let Ryan know where she was and enabled him to disrupt her after being told that she did not want to be disrupted.

Taylor failed to contain the deep sigh that brewed within her as she looked around the living room at the first few guests who had showed up. She wouldn't be surprised if this was it.

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Ryan scanned the small crowd before making his way back to the front foyer and waiting for someone he knew to show up. What the hell was he doing here? Sure, it all seemed to make sense before, but now that he was actually standing here it didn't. This was a memorial service for crying out loud. What was he going to do? Profess his love for Taylor in a room full of mourning people – although, he doubted that anyone was really mourning – and expect her to come back to him after all these years just because he finally explained everything to her? Was it even worth it if she, her husband, and her children were all happy? Of course it wasn't. What the hell was he thinking?

"Hey kid!" Sandy said with a clap on the shoulder, tearing Ryan away from his thoughts.

"Hey" Ryan said as he turned slightly to face the people who he had grown to accept as his parents. He watched as they looked around the room and then settled their gazes upon him, their worry evident. "I'm fine" he said, trying to make not only them but himself believe it. He'd forgotten why he came here and just planned on paying his respects and bolting.

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"I think we're late" Seth said.

"You think?" Summer asked.

"Fine. We're late." Seth whispered as they entered Veroni… correction… _Taylor_'s (?) McMansion. "Thanks to your inability to find the _right_ black dress."

"Yeah." Summer said flatly. "Like I didn't spend a good fifteen minutes waiting for you in the car and honking while you were doing God knows what. What were you doing, by the way?"

"I warned you about my jewfro."

Summer stopped walking and stared at her husband. "Really? That's what you were doing?" she asked as she inspected his hair, earning a few strange looks from people nearby that she chose to ignore. He nodded and she smacked him on the arm. "It looks the same"

"Ow! Jeez, woman!" Seth whispered as he began to rub his arm. "I also tracked down Grace to inform her that we were going out and told her she was responsible for picking up Jake and Claire from day camp. By the way, now that you've reminded me, I think she's beginning to adopt your rage issues because I interrupted her while she was in the middle of doing the same thing to Scott."

"Wow… I'm really proud of how our little Gracie is turning out – slapping around her soon to be high school sweetheart who, weirdly enough, happens to be a younger version of you and taking on all the parental responsibilities that we neglect and shove off on her from time to time."

"How she turned out to be as good as she is with dysfunctional parents like us is beyond me" Seth said as he shook his head in mock disbelief and searched the crowd.

"I concur" Summer stated as she nodded and did the same. "The old age is really getting to you, isn't it Cohen?" she asked her husband when she looked up and saw him searching in the distance. "They're right there" she told him as she reached up and turned his cheek slightly. She watched as recognition dawned upon his funny face and couldn't hold back the small smile that formed on her lips at the thought that he was still so child-like at times. He put his arm around her shoulders and she settled into his embrace as they walked towards Sandy, Kirsten, and a torn looking Ryan Atwood who was trying to act normal. After more than twenty years of knowing these people, she had them all pegged.

"Hey" she and Seth said in unison as they approached the group.

She didn't really bother to pay attention while they murmured their responses and began to talk about Veronica Townsend. Her mind was occupied by other thoughts.

"Well… she looks good" Summer said after scanning the room and stopping and nodding off into Taylor's direction. The five of them stared at her as she walked through the crowd with a glass of wine in hand. She was stopped by an old man who guided her to a corner of the room. The two of them talked for a few minutes before she patted him on the shoulder with a small smile tugging at her lips, downed whatever wine was left and made her way back through the crowd. Summer couldn't help but shake her head in disgust as she passed another old geezer and he didn't even bother trying to hide the fact that he was checking out her ass before refocusing on Taylor who was now exchanging her empty glass for a full one. "At least she looks like herself" she stated as her mind drifted back to the last time she had seen her.

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"_Hey, Atwood! I'm so glad you're here. I called you like a zillion times and got really worried about you." Summer said after waddling to the door with the hopes that her pizza had arrived and opening it._

"_Actually, if you're going to insist upon calling me by my surname, it's Townsend." Taylor said blandly with her fake Newpsie smile still plastered to her face as she stepped inside._

"_Atwood!" Summer called up the stairs. "Get your stupid ass down here now!" Summer was worried. This wasn't her best friend. Not only was she not acting like her best friend, but she didn't look like her either. Taylor didn't give her a hug and smile her usual bright smile. Instead she sported an artificial, __**'I'm being polite to you even though I can't stand being within a thousand mile radius of you'**_,___Newpsie smile that she hadn't seen on anyone in years. Her demeanor was no longer warm and inviting, but stiff and cold. Her long auburn hair was gone, replaced by dark brown hair that came midway. She was wearing a red dress and looked well put together – another thing she wasn't expecting given everything that had happened between her and Ryan. _

"_Taylor, look… he loves you" she began earning a snort and a shake of the head from her friend. "Have you told him?" she asked and her eyes widened._

"_Have I told him?" she repeated the question with shock before settling back into her cool and collected state. "He doesn't deserve to know" she stated passively._

"_You don't get to decide whether or not he deserves to know. It's his child too… you can work through this." Summer said angrily with her back facing the door while Taylor faced her. _

"_I don't get to decide whether or not he deserves to know? Really?! What about way you and your entire family – people who I loved and considered to be my family as well – decided that I didn't deserve to know? Hmm?" she ranted before pausing. Summer didn't know what to say because it was true. "You can't even deny it. You knew. You knew and you didn't tell me. You all knew and none of you told me" she said resignedly. Summer watched out of the corner of her eye as Sandy, Kirsten and Seth sat in the living room quietly listening in on the conversation, probably after her loud rant and realizing that it had been Taylor at the door and not the pizza delivery man. She glanced up and saw Ryan standing at the top of the stairs with wide eyes. He must have been confused about Taylor's appearance and demeanor as well. She wondered how much of the conversation he and the Cohens had heard. Taylor, on the other hand, had no idea about the audience to their conversation and was about to continue ranting before she cut her off._

"_Taylor… I'm sorry. I really am. I wanted to tell you as soon as I found out but it wasn't my place to do so. He needed to tell you himself" she said before pausing. "The same way you need to tell him" she whispered while looking over at the Cohens and Ryan who was now halfway down the stairs – hinting at the audience, pleading for her to notice that they weren't alone before she said something she regretted. She didn't notice though. She was busy staring at her protruding belly, causing Summer to instinctively place her hands on it. _

"_As soon as I found out, I told you" Taylor began, not looking at her but at her belly. "I thought we were friends. I thought we'd do it all together – the shopping, sifting through names, prenatal yoga, finding the right school, forcing them to be friends, PTA, and everything else" she said as she shook her head and bit her lip. Summer saw a crack forming in the strong wall her friend had put up._

"_We are friends and we are still going to do all of that together. You and Ryan can get through this. You just need to talk to him and tell him." Once again, she whispered the last part, although she didn't know why seeing as how the shocked expression on his face told her that he had heard what she said and put two and two together. Ryan Atwood may have been a dumbass but he wasn't completely retarded._

"_No. We're not. We're not going to do any of those things together. __**He**__ and I aren't going to get through this" Taylor stated calmly. Summer noted the way she couldn't even refer to him by his name as she began to rummage through her purse and pulled out a small box. Summer knew what the white box with the red bow contained and suddenly became very confused. She also noticed a new embellishment had been added to the box – Taylor's rings were attached to the box through the bow. Summer was about to tell her friend she was an idiot and yell at her before she cut her to the chase and began to speak once again. "And what exactly should I tell him? Hmm? Should I tell him that I learned something today? Should I tell him that apparently, the first trimester is a very important stage in fetal development? Perhaps he'd like to know that an abnormal amount of stress, shock, or general upset during the first trimester, especially in the earlier parts, can lead to a miscarriage?" Summer looked at the box and felt tears welling up in her eyes. She didn't need to hear what her friend was going to say next to know where she had been all morning and afternoon when she had kept calling her. She knew why her friend was doing this and while a part of her understood, another part still thought it was wrong. Today was their anniversary – they were supposed to be happy, celebrating, and shoving delicious chocolate cake into each other's mouths. This was all just so wrong. She looked up at the stairs and saw her other friend clutching the railing with a mixture of shock, pain, anger, and anguish flickering over his face. She had never seen him look so miserable in his entire life. She had never seen either of them like this and she wanted to kill both of them for doing this to each other. She wanted to hug her friend and tell her that everything would be alright because despite the strong, determined, and impassive look on Taylor's face, Summer knew that she was dying on the inside. A quick glance behind her, into the living room showed her own husband and in-laws shocked and upset with what they heard. "It's not like the information will do him any good now. It didn't really do any good for me after the fact either" Taylor said with a shrug._

_Suddenly the doorbell rang and Summer cursed the bad timing (silently noticing the way her friend didn't correct her), quickly turned around, opened the door, handed the pizza delivery man the money, and absentmindedly took the food that she had been craving earlier and shut the door. Taylor had turned around and was staring at Ryan who had finally descended the stairs and stood in front of her. She watched as he reached out for her and she flinched away. "I told you not to touch me" she said coldly and his hand fell back to his side. Summer quietly made her way to the living room and placed the pizza on the coffee table. Seth immediately wrapped her in his arms and she let all her tears flow silently as she watched and listened. She was thankful that the kids were upstairs playing and far away from all of this. "I'm guessing you heard all of that" Taylor stated as she crossed her arms over her chest and stared at the floor._

"_Taylor… I'm so…" he began as he mirrored her pose, obviously trying to keep himself from touching her._

"_I'll have my lawyer contact Sandy" she coolly cut him off. "Happy Anniversary" she said as she handed him the box. "You'll get more use out of them than I will" she said before making her way upstairs._

_Summer watched as Ryan fiddled with the rings attached to the box with the red bow and then shoved the whole thing in his pocket before heading outside. She wished she didn't know what was in the box because she knew that when he finally opened that little box, his heart would break more than it already had. She held onto her husband and prayed that nothing like that ever happened to them and that they were together until they were old, grey, and wrinkly. Her stupid overactive hormones made her cry until her eyes were red and puffy._

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Taylor managed to sneak out of the Berkeley house unnoticed that night and she hadn't seen or heard from her since. Summer couldn't help but believe that the woman still hated her for keeping the truth from her.

Summer glanced over at Ryan. She wasn't sure how he had ended up alone with Aaron after all of the dust settled. She didn't want to know. In this case, ignorance was bliss.

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**Author's Note**

Thank you to everyone who reviewed the last chapter.

I love writing the Seth/Summer pieces because they're just fun and offset the angst and despair in the Ryan/Taylor pieces. I hope I'm doing a good job with concerns to portraying their characters. Taylor's hubby will be showing up soon and I hope you guys don't hate me for it. Also, please let me know if you're into the whole Summer/Taylor friendship thing and if I should continue with it or drop it because I'm torn.

Review?

- Roz


	5. Chapter 5

-5-

Taylor walked through the crowd with a glass of wine in her hand. There was a larger turnout than she had thought possible. She had caught a few men staring at her, some even while their wives were talking to her and providing her with their sympathies, but she didn't bother to care much about it. Although there were very few exceptions, all men thought with their dicks. It wasn't such a bad thing – not for her anyways – because it made getting what she wanted a lot easier sometimes.

She didn't even know who some of these people were and didn't care enough to inquire. It was one of her rules – not to approach people at useless events like this unless it was absolutely necessary or could be beneficial. It wasn't necessary to talk to anyone and she had already spoken to the only person she could benefit from.

Despite the fact that he was one of the exceptions, Stanley Chapman was a pathetic old man. Veronica had done quite a number on him and, despite the fact that it was nauseating if not absolutely puke worthy, she was quite pleased about it. Things couldn't have worked out more perfectly if she had planned it. All the shares she was inheriting from her mother, who had only dreamed of doing what Taylor just recently accomplished, in addition to the ones she had obviously been working Stan for – the man had actually stated that he was handing them over to her because he was going to leave them to Veronica once he passed and since she was a part of her dear mother he wanted to give them to her, now, because life was just too short and unpredictable – and the ones that she managed to get her hands on by herself were going to give her the ability to become the most powerful woman in California, let alone Newport. These ignorant cockroaches weren't going to know what hit them.

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Kirsten watched the woman who was once her daughter-in-law. She was drinking a lot of wine. She had broken her son's heart, but even if she tried she couldn't hate her for it. That was the difference between her and Sandy. He resented her for taking off like she did and putting Ryan through hell. He had placed such high hopes in the girl – thinking that she was the one for their son. She had saved him, supported him, and had given him meaning and purpose.

Sandy never saw how desperately she loved their son. She didn't think anyone but herself did. The girl would have sacrificed her life for him in a heartbeat – if he hadn't done what he did. He broke her heart. She loved Ryan dearly – and she would never say this aloud to anyone – but he ruined Taylor.

Even if she was remarried and had children, she wouldn't have opened herself up enough to love another man again. By observing her posture and demeanor, Kirsten could tell that she didn't let anyone in anymore.

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Ryan watched his ex-wife as she walked around the room. Even after all these years she was still so hot. Her dress clung to her sexy little frame, making it hard not to take in the curve of her breasts and hips that still swayed in that hypnotic way he remembered so well.

She turned around and he couldn't help but stare at one of the first things that drew him to her – her ass. She used to love it when he spanked her. He worshipped that ass.

His eyes roamed down her legs and he noticed her heels before making his eyes drift back up to her ass. Those heels made her legs and her ass look so… He had this thing for her in heels. He couldn't help but remember the way she would make him sit back and '_relax_' while she walked around for him buck naked in only her heels.

She was such a hot little sexpot.

Ryan tried to shake all of his thoughts from his head, but he couldn't seem to. It would have been easier if she was wearing a burlap sack. On second thought, Taylor would look hot as hell in a burlap sack – especially with her hair all mussed and without any other article of clothing.

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Taylor could feel someone's gaze upon her and quickly glanced around.

It was him. Ryan Atwood. What the hell was he doing here? Hadn't he gotten the hint earlier? Did she really have to spell it out for the moron?

Most of the Cohen clan was with him… they were all watching her – and most likely judging her. Fuckers. It was bad enough that her mother had made Sandy her lawyer, but was it necessary for the old fart to bring his entire family with him? She could envision her mother smiling smugly and laughing that jackal laugh of hers despite the fact that she was engulfed in Satan's tortuous flames of eternal damnation.

Taylor quickly downed her current glass of weak wine and replaced her empty glass with a full one from a tray that some guy who looked like he could be David Hasslehoff's Mexican bastard son was carrying around. It was time to suck it up and just exchange meaningless pleasantries with the family of brown-nosers. Despite her rule about not approaching people, she believed it was better to get it over with now than spending who knew how long with them staring at her and trying to brave themselves up for the task. It was quite endearing, really, the looks that flickered across their faces as she made eye contact with all of them.

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"Uh oh" Seth said. "She spotted us staring at her."

"So?" Sandy asked, trying to feign nonchalance. "She's the daughter of the dead woman. Everyone's going to be looking at her."

"Yeah" Summer stated. "But there's a difference between looking and staring… and we were staring."

"Not only that -- guys like Ryan are leering and women like mom are glaring at her" Seth said.

"I'm not glaring" Kirsten said "and Ryan's not…" she stopped once she looked over at her son and saw that he was leering at his ex-wife. He wasn't being too overt, but it was still noticeable. "Ryan?" she asked firmly, trying to get his attention and succeeding as he stopped eyeing Taylor. "He's not leering anymore" she told his brother softly with slight embarrassment. She quickly glanced at him and saw that it was mutual.

"Okay… well try that red head over there who's glaring at her because she just noticed her husband leering at her"

"I'm going to kick his ass" Ryan muttered under his breath and Kirsten began to fear the worst when he took a few steps forward towards the man in question.

"Hold on there kid!" Sandy whispered firmly, placing a hand on Ryan's shoulder. "You can't go around beating up every guy who leers at your ex-wife. You're too old for that and she's your ex-wife."

"Yeah, man. Plus, there's too many of them for that plan to pan out" Seth added, earning a glare from his brother.

Kirsten breathed a sigh of relief when Sandy removed his hand from Ryan's shoulder and he stood still.

"Crap. I think she's coming over here" Summer stated worriedly.

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She began to make her way over there when some woman threw herself in her path and wrapped her arms around her. Taylor was startled and immediately tensed up. She didn't bother making any move to reciprocate the action but noted that she had to take a long and scalding bath once all of this was over.

"Oh dear! I am so sorry for your loss. Your mother was such a great person!" she said before finally letting her go.

Taylor put on the most polite mournful possible as the woman began to spout on about her mother and what a great person she was. Damn it… did this woman have an off switch? The woman just refused to shut up. Charity? Ha! She bit the inside of her lip to keep from laughing as she took another sip of wine. She looked down at the wine as she began to swirl it. Yes… this would be a good distraction; at least she wouldn't have to look at the blubbering buffoon's face. She looked up in time to see a man with another tray of wine approaching. She quickly finished off her wine and when the man reached her she swapped the empty glass for a full one. She took a quick glance back at Ms. Jennings who was currently shoving her mouth full of some appetizer or the other and continuing to talk. She simply nodded at her, despite the fact that she hadn't been paying attention to a word she had been saying.

The woman continued and Taylor looked behind her at the Cohen clan as they continued to stare at her. They weren't even talking to each other. They were just staring at her. She noticed the young construction worker who infuriated her earlier approach the group.

"Hey, dad" she heard the man say as he approached Ryan Atwood. "Sorry I got kind of late" he said with a hint of nervousness as he began to look at the crowd.

Ryan nodded at the man and she fumed. He was his son. His son was working in her house. His son had come to her mother's memorial service. What the hell? It was bad enough that he showed up… but his son? Had the asshole lost all sense of propriety?

"Aaron, sweetie, how are you?" she heard Kirsten ask the man.

_Aaron_.

It hit her like a ton of bricks. How could she have not seen it? Sure, he was all grown up now, but she should have noticed. She felt sick at the thought that she had been eyeing him up earlier. She watched him and the way he interacted with them. He was all grown up.

"Oh, dear!" the old hag stated quite loudly enough to garner some attention. "Does someone have a handkerchief? I think the poor dear has become overwhelmed" she continued to spout off. What the hell was she talking about? Damn. This woman just couldn't shut up, could she?

Aaron must have heard the woman because his eyes darted to her before meeting her own. Taylor quickly tore her eyes away and began to concentrate on her glass of wine. She suddenly found it hard to breathe and felt involuntary tears welling in her eyes and a small amount of moisture on her cheeks. Shit! She was crying. This wasn't good.

The pain and sadness that overwhelmed her at the realization that the young man she had been so rude to earlier was once the little boy she considered to be her son made her fail to notice the dark haired man who had entered the room a few minutes after him.

Taylor stared at her hands in confusion when he took the glass of wine out of her hands and put it on a nearby table. She tensed when she felt him wrap his arms around her but relaxed slightly when the man began to talk and she realized that it was her husband.

"Darling!" her husband stated as he began to rub one of his hands over her back soothingly and run his other one over her hair, pulling her in so that she was snug against his body. Taylor forced herself not to push back or cringe at the contact due to the amount of eyes she felt upon them. Instead she wrapped her arms around his ribs and buried her head in his shoulder and neck. "I'm so sorry I'm late" she heard him say before he pressed a kiss into her hair. He knew how much she hated doing things like this and he loved pissing her off by always drawing it out. "It's okay. I'm here now."

"I hate you" she softly hissed into his ear so that only he would be able to hear.

"There, there. I know. Just let it all out" he said aloud, trying to sound both soothing and concerned for everyone who was undoubtedly watching. Unlike everyone else, she knew her husband well enough to pick up on the amusement in his voice. The son of a bitch always got off on torturing her with public displays of '_affection_' like this.

"Here's a handkerchief" Taylor heard Ms. Jennings say. "I'm sorry, dear."

"Thank you" she heard her husband say to the woman. She felt the loss of contact of one of his hands before he pulled away from her completely and handed her the handkerchief. She immediately held it up to her face and padded her eyes. She was no longer crying, but she didn't need all of her guests to see that. Her husband placed one of his arms around her shoulders. "I think some fresh air will do you some good" he said to her. "Why don't we go outside for a little bit?" he asked as he rubbed his hand up and down her bare arm. Under any other circumstances it would have upset Taylor, but she was already planning on taking a long and scalding bath so she let it slide.

She simply nodded her response, keeping the handkerchief held to her face and her head down so that no one would be able to see her. Her husband guided her away from the crowd and to a door that led to the recently completed verandah on the side of the house. The reason why her mother had a verandah built was beyond her; but it sure as hell did come in handy. He held the sliding glass doors open for her as she stepped out. She immediately began to walk towards the far end of the verandah, straightening up along the way, so that no one would be able to see or hear them while he stepped out and closed the door behind himself.

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**Author's Note**

Thanks again to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. I appreciated your input on the development of Taylor and Summer's friendship (you can look forward to it). I always love reading about what you like, don't like, how confused you are, what you're thinking, and any suggestions you might have.

For those of you that are confused about a lot of stuff – my intent is to confuse you, make you ask questions, and want to know what's going on. I hope I'm succeeding in keeping you on the edge of your seats.

Assignments and exams are coming up in the next little while (university just started up again after a three month strike and I'm being bombarded with work – can you believe I still have to complete the Fall '08 term?) so I don't know when I'll get the time to write the next chapter and update. This chapter was posted because I'm procrastinating instead of actually writing my essays and studying.

Perhaps I'll feel like procrastinating again during the exam period and post something then.

Then again, maybe your reviews will compel me to procrastinate before that. ;)

- Roz


	6. Chapter 6

-6-

"Someone tell me that I'm seeing things" Seth said to his family as he watched the door to the verandah that his brother designed and his company had just built close. "Tell me that wasn't… that can't be… she couldn't possibly be married to…"

"Oliver Trask" he heard his wife say in an icy tone that sent more shivers up his spine than the man he had just seen console Taylor and take her out for fresh air.

"Holy Jesus and Moses" Seth murmured in shock as he continued to stare at the door. He shook his head before turning to look at his family. With the exception of Aaron, who was confused, everyone was shocked. Ryan appeared to be a mixture of shocked and angry.

Angry Ryan wasn't a good thing.

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"What the hell are you doing here, Oliver?" Taylor asked as soon as he was close enough to hear her. The asshole should be in New York. He knows it won't look good if neither parent is with the kids.

"It's nice to see you too dear" he said with a smirk.

"We're alone now. Cut the bullshit. I asked you a question" she said.

"You should be thankful I came. How would you have gotten out of that mess you were about to create if I hadn't been here?" he asked. She knew he was right and chose to narrow her eyes at him instead of saying anything. "See? You know I'm right" he said. "Plus, it would be such a shame to be married and not take advantage of all of the perks that our little contract has to offer, wouldn't it? You should have seen Atwood's face when he saw me put my arms around you" he snickered.

"I'm surprised you haven't become smitten by him now that you've switched teams" Taylor scoffed.

"Oh, no. You know my type, Taylor – tall, dark, and handsome… the complete opposite of that horse face. I'll never know what you or Marissa saw in him."

Taylor rolled her eyes at yet another mention of the girl who had died long ago. She had been the reason he was institutionalized and hopped up on meds. She had been the reason why he loathed women, stating that they were all too complicated. She had provided him with the motivation to stalk Ryan and, after they started dating, her. She had been one of the twisted reasons behind why they got married.

"I can't wait till this is over" Taylor said, in an attempt to change the subject. "How do you want to handle this? Should I go in before you, or should you go in before me?"

"We should go in together and don't squirm or tense up when I touch you _sweetheart_."

"Shut up and don't touch me. How many times do I have to tell you that I don't like your touchy feely crap? There's no need for over the top theatrics" Taylor said sternly before beginning to walk towards the door.

"We need to convince these people that we actually love each other" Oliver said. "I'm going to do any and everything necessary to convince them of that" he added with a smirk.

"Oh, but I do love you Oliver" Taylor said as she turned to smile at him. "Like a fat kid loves cake" she added.

"Well, I'm touched" Oliver said, placing his right hand over his heart.

"You know… before they realize how disgusting the cake is and purge themselves because they suffer from bulimia" she added sweetly.

"If I didn't hate women, you'd be perfect for me" Oliver said with a bright smile.

"If you didn't hate women I would have never given you the light of day" Taylor quipped as she turned around and headed toward the doors once again, only this time with her husband following her.

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Ryan watched as Taylor reentered the house with Oliver in tow. He needed to keep his cool. He had been debating between staying and leaving but decided that he needed to talk to her now more than ever.

She was Taylor Trask.

She was married to Oliver Trask.

How the hell could she have married Oliver Trask?

How the hell could she have had Oliver Trask's kids?

She was Oliver fucking Trask's wife.

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Oliver looked at Ryan Atwood as he watched his wife. What a loser – in all senses of the word. The man had lost everything to him.

Ryan Atwood had everything. He had a wife, he was going to have kids, and he had a family that actually cared for him. The fucker had Marissa Cooper and let her die. If he had pulled over, had better control of the vehicle, or gone for help instead of not doing anything, she would have lived. Marissa had chosen him and he didn't give a shit about her. He let her die instead of going to get help.

The fucker didn't deserve shit. He didn't deserve a wife and kids.

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_  
"Hi" Oliver said as he approached the pregnant brunette as she sipped away at her Mocha Frappuccino while reading a book titled 'Parenting for the Single Mother'._

_Taylor looked up at him with questioning hazel eyes and stared at him for a few moments before they widened in surprise and recognition. Of course she would recognize him, anyone who attended Harbor at the same time he did would. Not only that, but he was 'the psycho who her ex-husband saved Marissa Cooper from'. It didn't matter that he had no intention of hurting her because he loved her and was just going to kill himself so that he wouldn't have to live without her. No… that didn't matter at all. He was 'the psycho that tried to kill Marissa Cooper'._

"_Hi" she said. There was hesitance in her voice and she stared at him while she brought her purse on her lap and rifled through it before settling her hand down on something._

"There's no need for the pepper spray, Taylor" he said before watching the wheels in her head turn. "Any smart woman like yourself living alone in New York would be carrying pepper spray and how could I not know the name of Ryan Atwood's ex-wife when I've been keeping tabs on him for years?"

"Look, I don't really care about what happened between you two all of those years ago. It has nothing to do with me. He isn't a part of my life anymore." she stated coolly as she stood and began to gather her things. 

"_Really?" Oliver asked her. "Ryan isn't a part of your life anymore?" he added, making sure to stare at her protruding belly instead of into her hazel eyes. When she stilled her movements he met her eyes. "You should sit."_

"_You're psychotic. They never should have let you out" she spat._

"_C'mon Taylor, you of all people should know what a burning cesspool of lies Harbor was. You know how horrible all of those people were" he stated calmly and watched as she pursed her lips in thought before reluctantly sitting down once again. _

_Oliver smiled and took the seat across from her._

"_I don't want to spend all day chatting with you. Just get to the point."_

"_I'm glad" Oliver said before reaching into the pocket of his thin jacket and pulling out a black velvet box that contained the large diamond ring he had purchased solely for this purpose. He looked at her and saw the way she watched him with uncertainty. It was going to take a while to make her realize that he wasn't a threat – not to her anyways. "This isn't a social call. It's strictly business. I want you to marry me."_

"_What?" she asked, after blinking a few times, furrowing her brow, and then quirking an eyebrow at him._

_Oliver opened the box, set it on the table, and pushed it across the table so that it sat next to her Mocha Frappuccino._

"I want you to marry me" he repeated. 

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_

He had never expected things to go this far. He had never expected his plans to work out this well.

Oliver looked over at his wife who stood beside him as she wearily scanned the crowd. She had somehow managed to get her hands on another glass of wine. He kept telling her that she shouldn't drink so much in public – people were bound to think she was an alcoholic even if it wasn't true. The truth was that she only drank in public when she was around people she didn't like and needed to take the edge off as well as when she was around him. From what he was aware of, she didn't drink when she was alone or when she was with the kids.

He didn't love her but there were things that he loved about her. He loved all of her snide remarks. He loved the glares and the icy looks she shot at him. He loved all of the banter that went on between the two of them. He loved pissing her off. He loved how cold, vindictive, and ruthless she could be. She was such a bitch and he was certain that if he didn't prefer the company of men, she'd be perfect for him._  
_

"Excuse me everyone" Oliver spoke up loudly, causing people to stop talking and turn to him. "I'd like to thank all of you for coming here today. Your support during this very difficult time is greatly appreciated by my wife and I" he said as he placed his arm around Taylor's waist and earned a hard look from her. "It's touching to know how many people cared for Veronica" he said. "My wife would like to say a few words about her mother" he said, moving his hand up from its position on Taylor's waist and placing in on her back. "Go on darling; you've got everyone's attention."

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Taylor hated Oliver. He was pathetic and annoying. She hated the fact that he couldn't just stick to the basics and had to keep pulling elaborate crap like this. He was incredibly dense. She didn't know how many times she had told him not to pull shit like this and he kept doing it.

She didn't trust him at all. One of the most important lessons that life had taught her was that one could never trust anyone – especially not those that they cared most about because they were the ones that had the potential to do the most damage.

"Veronica Townsend… my mother…" she began, not having any clue as to what she was going to say as the crowd looked at her expectantly. She looked at her glass of wine and gave into the urge to take a sip. "I do not believe that there are words contained within the dictionaries of any language that can adequately describe how I feel, or how I felt, about my mother" Taylor stated as she swirled the wine in her glass around. She concentrated on the way in which a bit of the liquid rose against the glass before falling back down and getting lost with the rest of it. "Anyone who has ever known her can probably agree with me on that" she said with a smirk and an undeniable laugh to her voice that caused some to snicker, chuckle, and laugh lightly.

"When I was younger, despite how hard I tried, I could never understand her due to my own naivety and a lack of worldly knowledge. I believe that it is only with age and experience that we can ever truly understand our parents and be thankful for them and the roles they've played in who we've become" she stated before taking another sip of her wine. She remembered all the lectures her mother gave her and all of the rude comments. She had thought that her mother was being cold and heartless, which she was, but she was also trying to toughen her up for the real world – the world where people used her and no one gave a shit about her. She had been right when she told her that no man would ever want her if she looked like a dump – no man had ever actually cared about her; they only cared about her body and about what she could do for them. She was right when she told her that no one would ever want to be her friend – she had never had any real friends; they were just people who lied to her and made her believe that they actually gave a damn.

"My mother taught me a lot about life. She pushed me to be the best I could be. She made me strong. She inspired me" she said. It was true. She hated Veronica but it was just absolutely true. It took going through the same thing her mother did in order for her to actually heed all of Veronica's lessons and advice. Seeing who Veronica had become after her father left her to start a family with some bimbo – seeing how strong and independent she was – had been what made her pick herself up, dust herself off, and aspire to lead her own life as a strong and independent woman. It was her competitive edge that made her want to be even better than Veronica.

"My mother did not believe in wishful thinking… which is why I do not hope… but intend to pick up where she left off in this community and be every bit the woman that she was… if not much better" she said. These people had no clue as to what she was capable of. They had no clue as to how much power she held. They had absolutely no clue as to what was going to hit them.

"But what is a child if anything but defiant? I do hope that wherever my mother is…" she began as she smiled, ever so slightly, down at the floor "she receives everything that she deserves, and much, much more" she finished with a tap of the perfectly manicured nail of her index finger to the glass of wine before she threw her head back and downed the contents.

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"She can't be serious" Seth said. "She's thankful for the role Veronica played in who she became? The wife of Oliver Trask? He's nuts and anyone who actually married him has to be nuts and from the way she's talking it's clear that she's nuts" Seth rambled. "I don't like it here. I want to leave. Can we leave? Who wants to leave?" he asked as he looked around at his family who were completely ignoring him.

"Shut up, Cohen!" Summer said, slapping him on the arm. He was getting all antsy and whiny and regressing into a three year old.

"Rents… right there" he said pointing a finger.

"I don't care. If you weren't whining like a three year old I wouldn't have to do it" she said. "Can't you see that she's in pain?"

"She's not in pain. It was Veronica and she's Taylor. There is no way that she is in any kind of pain" Seth said.

"Look, you talked me into coming to this thing and now that I'm here, we're staying" she said in a tone that she knew would let him know that there was no room for argument. He frowned at her and she looked back at Taylor.

She couldn't believe that she married Oliver Trask. The last she heard about him, he had been locked up in some institution for mental health. How the hell did they even manage to meet? Why would she marry him?

"What I find unsettling is the fact that she wants to pick up where her mother left off and be better than her" Sandy said.

"I know. What did she mean by that?" Seth asked and Sandy shrugged.

"That was a bit unsettling" Kirsten agreed.

Summer didn't care about what they said about Taylor. She knew something was off. Taylor would never have become inspired by Veronica Townsend. Her friend hated her mother with good reason. What kind of mother told their kid that that they were ugly, that they were useless, that they were a waste, that they would never have friends, and that they would never be loved?

Summer's eyes widened in realization and she felt stupid for not understanding what the real reason why Taylor had up and left and cut them out of her life had been. Her speech – the fact that she thought Veronica had taught her important lessons, that her mother had inspired her, that she only understood her after she gained experience of the world – combined with her ice cold demeanor was what finally made her understand her friend's actions. It wasn't just simple betrayal in Taylor's eyes – all of them had collectively proven every mean thing that Veronica had ever said to her to be true.

She needed to talk to Taylor now more than ever and she hoped it wasn't too late.

She turned to tell Seth and found him and his parents talking among themselves and saw Aaron standing alone, looking deep in thought. Ryan was no longer with them.

"Hey" she said as she patted Aaron on the arm. "Are you okay?" she asked and he nodded in return.

She could tell he wasn't okay. Seeing Taylor had probably upset him. She had cut him out of her life too. She could see why Taylor would have cut them out of her life but she couldn't see how she could cut Aaron out. He hadn't done anything to hurt her. He had just been an innocent kid caught in the crossfire.

"Where's your dad?" she asked. He looked at her wearily before nodding off to a nearly secluded corner of the room.

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"You do know that drinking isn't going to take any of the pain away, don't you?" Ryan asked as he approached her with yet another full glass of wine in her hand. He had noticed how much she had been drinking and tried to push the fact that she was an alcoholic out of his head but after her speech and the way she only stared at the glass and avoided everything else, he couldn't do it anymore. Never in a million years did he ever think that she would be the type to use alcohol as a crutch – she was stronger than that.

"Who says I'm in pain?" Taylor asked. "You knew my mother… Hell, you've been working for her for how long now? Do you really think I'd be in any kind of pain?"

He wasn't sure. No, he didn't – because her mother was a bitch – and yes, he did – she was still her mother and he knew that she had always wondered what it would be like if she changed and hoped that she actually would. Despite how demented it was, he hoped that she was in pain because if she wasn't it just made the entire situation worse – it meant that she wasn't drinking to numb the pain, but just drinking.

"What do you want?" she asked tiredly.

"What?"

"What do you want? To offer your condolences?" she asked. "That's very kind of you Mr. Atwood" she said primly with a fake smile before turning on her heels and beginning to walk away from him.

He grabbed her wrist to stop her and she turned to face him with a resolute set to her jaw. He noticed the way she stared at his hand around her wrist and the way her breathing became ragged. Her skin was still soft and he had to fight the urge to smooth his hand up her arm and feel more of her. It had been too long since he'd touched her and he had to remind himself that she wasn't his anymore. She wasn't his; she was _Oliver Trask's_. His grip on her instinctively tightened at the thought and she wrenched her wrist away from his grasp.

"That's not what I want" he said, and was only slightly surprised by how low and dark his voice sounded.

"Well then, what do you want? Hmm? Why are you here?" she asked with a smile even though she was tossing daggers his way with her eyes. "It couldn't possibly be because you're actually concerned about me" she scoffed. "You didn't give a damn about me when we were together. What difference could fifteen years apart have possibly made on the amount of concern you possess for me?" she asked with narrowed eyes and a tilt of her head.

He didn't know what to say to her. He could see the fact that she hated him spelled out in her eyes – they were so dark and angry. He knew he had hurt her but how could she think that he didn't care about her? How could she think that he had never cared about her? She had been his wife for fuck's sake. He loved her. He still loved her despite the fact that she hated him. He would never have married her if he didn't love her – if he didn't want to spend the rest of his life with her, grow old with her, and raise kids with her.

He smoothed his thumb over the ring he still wore. He was wearing the ring she put on his finger and she was wearing the ring that Oliver Trask put on hers. She was married to Oliver Trask now.

"_Oliver Trask_?" he asked venomously.

She stared at him.

"You married _Oliver Trask_?" he asked, continuing to inflict the man's name with venom. When she continued to stare at him he just kept asking her more questions. "_Oliver Trask_? You've been with _Oliver Trask_ all this time? You let _Oliver Trask_ touch you? You had kids with _Oliver Trask_?"

"Look…" she interrupted, while she unnecessarily ran her idle hand over herself to smooth down her dress – the dress was clinging to her and her frame was smooth. "While this is entertaining on some level, it's also tiring and quite annoying. How I spent the last fifteen years of my life is none of your business. Actually, everything about my life is none of your business. Well, everything except for this house." He stared at her with his fists clenched at his sides as she began to ramble. He wanted to pound Oliver's face in. He wanted to know what the hell she had been thinking – the man was a psycho. "I understand that there's some kind of a contract, and I'm okay with that, but I do not want you to speak to me about anything that does not have to do with the enhancements that are being made to this house by your company. Actually, I think it would work best for both of us if you just finish up whatever it is you have left to do as soon as possible and just bring me whatever papers need to be signed when you're done. Any discussions that we may have in the future should be platonic and should remain completely professional."

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Oliver laughed inwardly as he watched Ryan and Taylor talk. It was clear that she didn't want anything to do with the fucker and that he wanted everything to do with her. It was also clear that he was angry and in pain. He deserved every last bit of what he was feeling.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"_What do you see, Oliver?" the shrink asked as he held up yet another inkblot._

What did he see? What did he _**see**__?_

He saw Marissa Cooper. He saw her crying as she hugged Ryan Atwood.

"A butterfly" he stated.

"What about this one?"

_What did he see? What did he __**see**__?_

_He saw a gun. A recently fired gun and the little specks surrounding the barrel was gun powder. That wasn't good. Grissom from the CSI DVD's he'd paid the guard for had taught him that you had to wear flammable gloves so that you didn't get any gunpowder residue on your hands and could burn the gloves to ashes so nothing could ever be traced back to you. This guy wasn't wearing any gloves. He wasn't wearing any gloves in the picture._

"A mommy duck playing with her baby ducks at a pond" he stated. 

"_Hmm… interesting. And what about this one?"  
_

_What did he see? What did he __**see**__?_

_He saw a disfigured Ryan Atwood lying in a pool of his own blood. There was a gaping hole on the side of his head and a dead look in his eyes._

"A teddy bear with a lollypop" he said with a smile.  


"_You've made great progress Oliver. A few more tests and you might be able to go for walks in the park with some of the other people in the facility."_

"_Really?" he asked hopefully._

"_Yes" the shrink smiled._

"_Oh. That sounds great!" he lied._

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Three years. He spent three fucking years locked up in a nuthouse because of Ryan Atwood. Blowing his brains out would have only brought him momentary pleasure but this – watching him pine for something he would never have, suffering painfully, living such a pathetic life and knowing that he had everything that Ryan Atwood wished he had – was so much more satisfying.

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**Author's Note**

Okay, so this chapter was really hard for me to write. I feel like its… dry. It just sucks. I'd say I'm sorry but I'm not. I'm glad that this is done and over with because now I can start working on the next chapter.

Oh, and I completely foresee myself losing some readers for introducing Oliver to the mix but I'm not really sorry about that either since I totally love where this fic is headed. I don't want to give anything away so I'm just going to remind you that this is a Ryan and Taylor fic.

I bet none of you saw Oliver coming did you? I kind of like writing Oliver because he's bonafide padded white room material. I like writing about crazy people – it's more fun than writing about normal people.

Not sure when the next chapter of this fic is going up. I suck.

Review (I want to know what you're thinking and it doesn't matter if its good things or bad things… just review. Please?).

- Roz

P.S. I started a fluffy RT fic called "Finding the Right Prince" (hereafter referred to as FTRP) in order to counteract the angst that is IQ so if this put you in a bad mood or something, check that out. I hope to get the next chapter of FTRP up by next week but nothing is set in stone. Incase you're wondering about the lack of a rambling A/N on that fic – I forgot to write one (which is why I feel the need to mention it here).

Also, I started posting all of my fics on LJ (.com) so you can choose whichever means you like in order to access my work.


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